Time
by What-Happens
Summary: House's experience at Mayfield and how he can or can't handle it. The darkening times, the fights, the breakdowns and who is to blame? The thoughts of a genious are...'interesting' H/Cu Cu/W friendship H/W friendship
1. Chapter 1

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Disclaimer: I own nothing, I do no own the characters or House. I simply own the plot of this story and any OC that may come into play in the future. This is rated T WARNING!!! THIS COULD CHANGE TO M IN THE FUTURE!!! Should this happen I will certainly state the changed rating prior to the chapter beginning. Enjoy and please review!

It was four months, four excruciating months, four months of a mans life, wasted. But he refused to cry, he refused to break down to such an emasculate state. Then again, he already labels himself as weak, what could be more enfeebling? So he sits there on his cot, staring at the blank wall opposite of him, so weak, so tired, so cold, and single tear drops out of his faded blue eyes. This would be the first time he cried since he arrived at Mayfield.

"Oh Boo-Hoo!" a rosy mouth smirked at him, the joy in watching the man slowly spiral out of control was unreal. But that was it, she was unreal, " aw, don't cry, House," but the fact was, she was enjoying watching him cry, she didn't want him to stop, "you're not all alone," reading him thoughts, she sat next to him on the cot, she leaned in, "you have me!" she chirped happily. House gripped the sheets of his bed, his fits trembled, he remembered he tried to hit Amber a month or so ago, but he couldnt, his fits went right through he. She had liked that, and House didnt want to do anything that would please Amber. A knock, suddenly came at the door, Amber looked, House didnt. The door opened.

"Hello, Mr. H--ah," It was one oclock, it was time for an hours worth of therapy, House would never admit it, but this is actually his favorite time of the day, it was the only day in which he had some human contact. The doctor was shocked, frozen in his tracks as he watched the man, who had only showed him motions of a nonchalant attitude and bitter sarcasm, wipe the tears from his face. House flickered his eyes at the doctor.

"What?" House said sharply, " haven't you seen a man cry before?," There was a desk next to a window, with the blinds closed, the doctor slowly walked over and opened them, trying to organize his thoughts. It was a cloudy day, almost pointless to open the blinds. The doctor sat at the desk in the rather uncomfortable chair, as usual. The was an opened marble notebook, the doctor flipped through the pages and saw nothing was written. He sighed.

" Well, surely, Ive seen men cry, but never you, Mr. House, " House looked at the open door, he got up and closed it, raising his eyebrows at the doctor as he went to sit back down on the cot. The doctor cleared his throat, " I see you still arent writing in your journal," The doctor was slightly disappointed, slightly. He was rather fearful of what was going on in Houses mind, "Why dont you want to write in your journal?"

"Well first off I dont see the point in keeping one, a journal is supposed to be private," House leaned on the cold wall behind him, "since you and the rest of your cronies, are, evidently, going to snoop through it like some P.I.s, Id just rather...not. Besides, I cant think of anything to write," Amber was sitting on top of the desk, one leg over the other, smiling sickly.

"Translation: I cant think of anything to writebesides Cuddy-Bear," Amber commented. House blushed in anger and fustration, it was true, but the reason why he got so mad was because that little nickname Amber decided to give to Cuddy, shes been using it for a while.

'' Now, now, Mr. House, that is a lie,'' Amber scoffed at the doctor, "You cannot tell me that you cant think of anything to write after I just walked in here and saw you crying, what were you thinking about?" House scoffed and gave him a look.

"Being in Mayfield doesnt exactly make me happy, shocking, I know," The doctor sighed once again.

"Hows your leg?"

"Just dandy," the words stung with sarcasm. Over the course of four months, he was taking a fourth of the amount of pills he was usually taking, in another two months or so he would not be taking any Vicodin at all. House had bitched and complained about just going at it cold-turkey, but deep down he still longed for Vicodin and having a little Vicodin was better then not having anything at all.

The doctors cool eyes stared hard at House, trying provoke that same emotion he saw when came in, "Is she...uh...here?'' By she he meant Amber. House nodded.

"The bitch is sitting on the desk," Amber frowned slightly.

"Why dont you write about the conversations you have with Amber?" The doctor handed the marble book to House, but he didnt take it, "Look, you want to get out of here, right? Im trying to help, but I can only help you if youre willing to accept my help and comply with the healing procedure." _healing procedure_ House thought mockingly.

"I dont believe in this pyscho-mubo-jumboespecially with people who I barely know," The doctor looked slightly defeated already, but House wasnt finished, "What I _need_ is an MRI, something concrete. Scan my head for any tumors--scan my head for _anything_ that would labeled as an abnormality, then come back to me and we will talk about a _proper_ heal procedure," House stood by the door, opened it, and made a gesture with his cane to get out.

"We already did an MRI scan months ago when you first came in demanding that you should have one immediately before any other scheduled patients. We couldnt find anything that would be labeled as an abnormality."

"Do another one!" He slammed his cane on the ground, "God knows you probably missed something!" He slammed his cane again.

"Oh no!" Amber said in mocked horror, "He's slamming his cane!" She turned to the doctor, knowingly he couldnt hear her, "Doctor, I beg you, listen to him, or this Vicodin-addicted-hallucinating-_handicapped-ex-doctor_ will, without a doubt, harm you!"

"Shut up, Amber!"Amber looked at him, a mixture of overwhelming happiness and surprise was written on her face. She started laughing, both her and House couldnt believe he actually spoke to her in front of the doctor. The House watched as Amber was keeled over laughing and the doctor next to her was scribbling something down on the little clipboard he always carried around, every few seconds glancing at House with a look of utter disturb. Frustrated, humiliated and angered , House hobbled over to the doctor and snatched the clipboard out of his hand.

"Hey! Youre not allowed--oof!" House took his cane and knocked the wind out of his doctor, sending him to the floor. House quickly scanned the paper before him.

"You're requesting to put _cameras_ in my room?! Thats a complete invasion of privacy!" House paused, "and you think _Im_ the crazy one," House tossed the clipboard on his bed, he took a few steps towards his doctor so he was standing over him. The man was clutching his stomach, in slight shock and slightly out of breath, "I want a new doctor," House paused, his eyebrows raised, "get out."

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Everyday, everyday single day a pain like none other would strike, and at any given moment. Sometimes it would happen once a day, sometimes it would happen thirteen times, one day was not like the next, every strike of pain was unpredictable. It was like someone was taking a very sharp needle and pricking your heart, Wilson hated this feeling. To make matters worse, there wasnt anyone there to comfort him. There was Cuddy, but that wasnt what he needed, what he needed was Amber, a soft hand to caress his check or run threw his hair, he needed her to hold him and to tell him that everything was going to be okay. But Wilson didnt have anyone, he wouldnt let himself have anyone, he wasnt close enough with anyone to let his guard down and show them his true feelings, he didnt have Amber.

Wilson shook his head trying to toss the thought of Amber out of it. He rubbed his sore eyes, he methodically hung up his jacket, took of his shoes, took off his tie and unbutton the first two buttons, throwing tie on the armchair next to him, walked into the kitchen, poured himself a glass of red wine, heated up the left over chicken. Everything was so methodical, day after day, week after week, month after month, the same routine over and over again. Wilson sighed and took a sip of his wine. Wilson rubbed his eyes, it was becoming a tiresome habit. Then he heard a knock at the door. He glanced at his watch, it was a quarter to seven.

Opening in the door, he saw Cuddy, his eyebrows furrowed, "Cuddy," He cleared his throat, "um, Hi, is-is there something wrong?" He was slightly surprised that Cuddy was standing before him, but only slightly surprised, they did, after all, have a common interest.

"Hi Wilson, can I come in?"

"Sure, sure," Wilson said gently, it was a break from his routine, and for that much he was glad, but judging by Cuddys sad blue eyes he didnt think her coming here was going to be a good thing. The both walked over to the sofa and sat down. _God she looks awful_, Wilson thought, but he didnt mean it in a nasty way. She looked so drained, so completely tired, like she hasnt slept in months. That sharp, determined, and proud gaze that was always alight in her eyes was gone, and in place was just a fog of faded hope.

"Would you like something to drink?" Wilson offered.

"Oh, no thanks, I wont be here long," She crossed one leg over the other, "I was just on the phone with Dr. Atonne," and there it was, that pain in his chest, and now it was Cuddy holding the needle.

"How is he?"

"Well," Cuddy paused, "The doctor thinks that its about time House has some visitors," Wilson perked up.

"Really?" Wilson paused taking in the exciting news, "W-well, this is-is a good thing, right? Before he wasnt allowed to have visitors and-and now he is, so maybe that means hes getting better, maybe the doctor thinks he can determine the difference between reality and fantasy," Wilson barked a laugh, there was another pause and Wilson then notice that Cuddy wasnt sharing in with the excitement. She did give him a weak smile. Wilsons smile faded.

"Apparently, during their session today, House was demanding another MRI, which was, of course, denied...Dr. Atonne said that House had an outburst, yelling at Amber, then he proceeded to grab Dr. Atonnes clipboard," Cuddy paused, "they were going to put cameras in his room."

"Hmm," Wilson sighed.

"And of course, House wasnt happy with this idea, so he took his cane and knocked the wind out of Dr. Atonne....,and demanded a new doctor," Wilson couldnt help but smile, but it quickly turned to a frown.

"But...Dr. Atonne is one of the best psychotherapist at Mayfield."

"House doesn't want the best psychotherapist, House wants the psychotherapist that cares the least and will get him out of Mayfield the fastest without having to do all that talking in between," Cuddy put her forehead in her hand, she sighed. Wilson scooted closer to Cuddy and put his hand on her shoulder, rubbing his thumb back and forth, "Dr. Atonne, thinks that we should be, in a sense, his psychotherapists."

"What? Thats completely insane!" Wilson stood up in fury, "Wh-why, why would he-why would he ask that? How-_how _could he ask that? Were not psychotherapist, and even if we were, that wouldnt be _right_ to psychoanalyze him, were his friends, how could we? Wilson put his hands on his hip."

"I know," Cuddy derided, "...I know, but I think its more a matter of getting him to open up then to actually psychoanalyze him," Wilson softened and sat back on the couch. The two sat in silence the clock seemed to tick by forever until Wilson got up once again, made his way to the kitchen and came back with two glasses of wine, even though Cuddy denied a drink before. She mumbled a thanks and they sipped in silence.

Cuddy knew she had to drive herself home, but it just one glass of wine, it could hurt, and God knows she needed it. She had been keeping herself constantly busy these past four months, but it wasnt all that hard. Ever since House left, it seemed that the emergency room overflowing with patients, and the team wasnt handling Houses departure very well, she felt like she was constantly checking up on them, seeing it they were okay, like a babysitter. And her own baby, for that matter, was quiet a task on its own. She felt like, right now, sitting next to Wilson was the only time she really sat down and relaxed.

"You could've call, you know," Wilson gave a sympathetic smile, Cuddy simply nodded.

"I should be going," the pair stood up simultaneously, Wilson walked her towards the door.

"Thanks for letting me know," Wilson blinked tiredly.

"Anytime," she paused, "Goodnight, Wilson."

"Night," Wilson closed the door, he looked at his hand that was still on the knob, he then opened it once again and looked down the hall to see Cuddy, "Cuddy!" He called out, she turn. Wilson then proceeded to stammer on his words like a baffling idiot, "Listen, um, perhaps, you know, we could,...I dont know, we could just..." He was completely at loss of what to say and how to say it, he knew what he wanted to tell her, but he didnt know how to say it, "...hang out sometime?" he paused and then realized what he said might have sounded suggestive, "Not like a date or anything!" he held out his hands as if to say 'dont shoot!', he cleared his throat, "just to, you know, talk," he sighed, "I mean, if you want, just to...," He clenched his teeth to prevent anymore words to come out of his mouth.

"Yeah, sure, anytime," she smiled and Wilson gave a slight sigh in relief, "Ill see you tomorrow."

"Yeah, bye," Wilson went inside his apartment and leaned on the closed door behind him. He didnt rightly know what possessed him to say that to Cuddy, but now that he thought about it, he was glad. Now he knew for sure, there was someone he could go to, someone he could talk to. Little did Wilson know that Cuddy was thinking the exact same thing.

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	2. Chapter 2

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Disclaimer: Look at the pervious chapter.

" That was rather enthralling yesterday, wasn't it?" House was lying on his bed staring at the ceiling, tossing his cane from one hand to the other. It wasn't like him to start a conversation with Amber, but House's mind was nervously thinking away ever since the incident yesterday. House started to realize how incredibly lonely he was, he hated Wilson and he hated Cuddy, he loved them, but he hated them. House knew that he wasn't allowed visitors, but so was the guy across the hall. The guy opposite him would always receive letters or telephone calls, and _he_ had to be at least nine times crazier then he was, House deducted. Being that he was so lonely, he needed someone to talk to, he needed to talk, but he didn't want to, he didn't want to share his feelings to anyone, especially not to a hallucination, and a mean one at that. After years and years of bottling up his emotions it was rather difficult to uncork that bottle, especially when that cork was not made of cork, but metal.

" Do you think it'll happen again?" Amber asked excitingly, " I think that outburst was a major improvement in our relationship," House twitched, she smirked, " after all, that outburst demonstrates that you are starting to _see_ me and _accept _me as if I was _really_ here," House's heart sank, he didn't like that concept at all. House glanced at her for a second.

" Does that mean I actually get to hit you now?" He asked, " Since I'm '_seeing _you and _accepting_ you as if you were really here?'" She didn't answer and he didn't care. His thoughts drifted back to Cuddy and Wilson, that's why he was crying yesterday, he missed them. He missed them terribly, but he would never say that out loud. House always felt he needed to be strong, he always felt like he didn't need anyone, that he could handle anything that came his way all by himself. Being completely honest with himself, he it scared him how much he missed them and needed them. House rolled over to his side and looked out the window, it was sunny.

" What do you think they're doing?" Amber asked.

" Wilson and Cuddy?"

" Do you think they're _doin' it_?" a wicked smile came across her face, " I mean that would explain why they haven't contacted you…they just…don't know how to break it to you…" House scoffed, " They do have a common interest and they are both hurting…they might have reached out to something…_warm_," House clenched his teeth.

" Oh please, do you think Wilson would actually do something like that, after playing matchmaker with the two of us for so long--"

" Perhaps he gave up, after all, how could Cuddy-Bear possibly fall for a _drug addict_," She barked a laugh, " How could the _Dean of Medicine_ fall for a _drug addict_?" House remains motionless as Amber spoke these words. It seemed…possible…House shook his head.

" How could a perfectly caring and sensitive oncologist fall for a bitch?" He raised his eyebrows, Amber still had a wicked smile on her face, " After all, you and Wilson are the essence of 'opposites attract' so why couldn't it work out for me and Cuddy?"

" Who are you trying to convince, House?" House rolled his eyes, but in his heart he knew that it would be difficult to start up a relationship with Cuddy after everything had happened.

" They would be a cute couple," House's comment was stuck in his throat, he thought if he acted like he didn't care if Cuddy and Wilson were in a relationship that maybe Amber would lay off, " They're both respected, honest, loyal, responsible…but then again if they were in a relationship they would be the contradiction to 'opposites attract'," Amber shrugged. All of a sudden a knock came at the door. House sat up in his cot looking nonchalantly out the window opposite the door. House assumed the doctor would just walk in without having to be welcomed; _They must have gotten a new doctor for me_ House thought happily.

" My I come in?" The voice was muffled behind the door.

" Say the magic word, and I don't mean 'please'!" There was a pause.

" Open Sesame?" House furrowed his eyebrows, the voice sounded familiar.

" Guess again!"

"…Abracadabra?"

" Still wrong."

" I-I give, just let me in, House," Yes, House had a feeling he knew who was behind the door, but he would not get his hopes up.

" …The magic word was actually 'Presto Change-o'…no one ever seems to remember that one," House sighed and his eyes glowed with saracsm and unfriendly coolness, " Enter at your own risk, after all I'm crazy…" The door opened and in stepped a man with tired brown eyes, tarnished brown hair and a weak smile upon his face, this man made House's heart beat very fast, he gulped.

" Hi…House," Wilson awkwardly closed the door behind him, not taking his eyes off of his companion, " How are you feeling?" House, who, at first, was suddenly overwhelmed with joy, was now enraged. House twitched slightly and barked a laugh.

" How am I feeling? Gosh, Wilson I didn't know you cared!" House stood. Wilson looked like he was about to say something, but House continued, " It's kind of a foolish question to ask, I mean, after all, how would you be feeling if you were stuck in a loony bin only to have the company of a doctor who picks his teeth with his pen and twiddles his thumbs like he knows what he's doing and a sarcastic, annoying, constantly insulting hull--!?" House stopped in mid-sentence; he looked around the room and saw that Amber was no longer there. House blinked a few times and looked at Wilson's eyes, House dropped his cane in shock and backed up a few steps, _this can't be happening, this isn't happening, _he thought. Wilson took a few steps forward.

"House? House, what's wrong?" House put up a hand as if to say, 'stay back', Wilson froze in his tracks. House cleared his throat _This is not happening, Wilson's real right now, he's real, he's really here, he wanted to see me…_House tried his very hardest to convince himself that the man who stood before him was not a hallucination, but a real, live, man, a man that he cared deeply about and who House desperately wanted to see.

" House?" Wilson asked again.

" Why…," House decided to see if this man was real, " why haven't you written to me?"

" We-well I--"

" Is it because of Cuddy?" There was a pause.

" What? What about Cuddy?"

" Are you sleeping with Cuddy?"

" What!" Wilson raised his eyebrows.

" Is that why you haven't written to me? Is that why you haven't contacted me?" House limped a step closer to Wilson, " Because you couldn't break it to me that you were having sex with Cuddy?" House took another limping step towards the man and grabbed his collar, " Are you?!"

" No, House! I am _not_ sleeping with Cuddy!" House soften slightly, but still have a fierce glow in his eyes.

" Then why haven't you written to me?"

" House, let go of me," Wilson tried to release himself out of House's grasp, but House just took his other hand holding the other side of his collar as well.

" Answer me first," Wilson blankly stared at his friend.

" I-I," House's eyes were electric blue, burning with intensity, staring, with such a fire, at Wilson's eyes, " I…didn't know what to say…," House slowly let go of Wilson's collar. House's hands were limp at his sides in disbelief, House blinked hard and licked his lips, and he let out a short breath and clenched his fists. House didn't care if the man before him was real or not at this moment because whether or not he was or wasn't real, it didn't matter. House was angry and he wanted to let someone know even if that someone was a figment of his imagination.

" You didn't…know what to say?" House's voice cracked with anger and fustration, he stared at the ground as he spoke, " You didn't know…what to say?"

" House, I--"

" You _didn't know _what to _say_?!" House started, he flickered his eyes at Wilson, House bit his lip and shook his head slightly.

" House, please, I…I…," House's knuckles were white and he just couldn't hold it in anymore, House wailed his fist at the tired man before him. Wilson didn't see the hit coming and fell to the floor with a hard thud, he felt the inside of his cheek bleeding, the taste of blood was bitter.

" Get the hell outta my sight…hallucination or not…," House sat on the bed and picked up his cane. Wilson remained frozen on the floor his hand rubbing his cheek methodically. House glared at him, " I said 'get out'," Wilson breathed in and out deeply.

" No…," Wilson said this kind of dazed and confused as if he didn't realize what he was saying, he shook his head and then said more seriously, " House, listen to me," He got up off the floor grudgingly, as if fearing he was going to be slammed down upon the carpet once more.

" I don't want to listen to you, I want you to get…," House's heart ached slightly, " I want to you _stay _away from me," House didn't want Wilson to stay away.

" House…"

" I can't see the problem with my request," House looked at him with painful eyes glossed over with bitterness, " After all; you didn't seem to have a problem with saying away from me for four months, why stop now?" Moments pasts, everything was incredibly still.

" House…" Wilson said even softer than he did last time, " You _know_ nobody was allowed to visit you…up until now…but I'm sorry I didn't write to you," House scoffed, but he let Wilson continue, " I didn't write because…well, I was scared, I was scared a-about what-what kind of letter I was going to get back," Wilson barked a sigh, " It's just…you know, I call the doctor every week, every Friday, to make sure you were okay, that you weren't being put into a straight jacket and were headed off into a padded room…," Wilson smirked as if trying to lighten the mood, " I just…," and then they were quite again, Wilson put his hands in his jacket pockets.

" You were afraid that I was going to remind you of your brother," It was a statement so Wilson didn't need to answer. Wilson sat on the bed next to House and put out his hand.

" Are we okay, House?" House looked at Wilson, rolled his eyes and took Wilson's hand.

" Sure we're okay, but that doesn't mean I forgive, you're not off the hook yet," Wilson nodded, that's probably the best we're going to get. House glanced at Wilson; there was a rim of blood around his lips.

" You might want to go to the bathroom and wash that off," House gestured to his lip. Wilson nodded.

" Yea, I'll be right back," Wilson walked out of the room and closed the door behind him. Even now, House felt alone, he knew it was only going to take Wilson a few minutes to rise out his mouth. House realized a new found hate for something… solitude. House twirled his cane and the minutes seemed to go by very fast, but House wished they went slower. Five minutes went by, he was okay, ten minutes went by, he was still okay, fifteen minutes, his heart started to quicken, twenty minutes, and he wouldn't sit still anymore. House got up after twenty minutes of waiting for Wilson, House walked to the bathroom down the hall. The bathroom only had one toilet and sink, the door was closed.

House stared at the door, should he test to see if the door was locked or should he politely knock? He wanted to hear Wilson's voice, House wanted to hear Wilson say 'Sorry, someone's in hear' or 'One minute'. House knocked on the door, nothing, he knocked once more, still nothing. House stood there for a minute, _This isn't happening,…please…, _"…please…," House whispered to himself as his put a shaky hand on the handle, slowly he turned the unlocked door and swung the door open to see an empty bathroom. _Maybe he got an emergency call, some cancer brat dying faster then they expected…damn cancer brat…_House licked his lips as he made his way to the front desk, a plain looking brunette saw him and smile.

" Good afternoon sir," She said cheerfully.

" Did a man by the name of James Wilson happen to sign in to visit someone?" House skipped over the pleasantries with a frantic look in his eyes. He watched her pick up the clip board, her eyes scanned the page diligently, when House saw her flip to the next page, he already felt defeated.

" He signed in today?"

" Yes," The girl looked at the first page once more and shook her head.

" No…," She remarked, " Perhaps did you mean to say James _Maguire_?"

" If I meant to say James _Maguire_, I would have said James _Maguire_ and not James _Wilson_," House snapped at her and walked back to his room, panicking. Once he got back to his room he found Amber there with that sick smile on her face, words didn't need to be exchanged, her smile was enough the break him. As he sat down on the bed and began to cry in his hands, Amber stood over him with such happiness.

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